


Reeses

by ladyoneill



Series: Lady O's Teen Wolf Bingo Stories [92]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst and Humor, Established Relationship, Gun Violence, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-27
Updated: 2014-12-27
Packaged: 2018-03-03 20:57:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2887649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyoneill/pseuds/ladyoneill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All Stiles wanted was some  fricking chocolate and peanut buttery goodness.  He didn't plan to get caught up in a robbery with an idiot tweaking on who knows what.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reeses

**Author's Note:**

> Written like a month ago for the Hurt/Comfort bingo prompt: caught in a robbery. Stiles is seventeen. Peter is not quite as crazy/evil as on the show. This is much more cracky than it should have been. Sorry for the lengthy absence--holiday craziness--but I have ten days off work and plan to spend most of it writing while watching bowl games.

How the fuck is this his life?

He's a senior, actually semi-popular, first line on the state champ lacrosse team, and a survivor of two years of supernatural shit.

And he's going to die from a bullet to the head because 1) he just had to get a bag of Reeses minis at nearly two in the morning and, 2) a guy tweaking out of his skull just had to decide to rob the mini-mart at the same time.

With a gun.

A gun currently being waved back and forth between Stiles on his stomach on the floor in the candy aisle and the clerk, woozy from being pistol whipped, trying to stuff the money from the register in a plastic bag that just won't stay open.

The robber is yelling and sweating and cursing, nearly shaking out of his skin, which is making his finger twitch on the trigger. He's losing it.

No, he lost it before he even came in here.

The sound of approaching sirens makes the robber screech and Stiles moan.

Shit, shit, shit.

Please don't let it be his dad because, 1) he could get hurt and, 2) Stiles will be so grounded.

Cowering, the clerk approaches with the money and is rewarded with another blow from the gun that knocks him out cold.

Then, a grimy hand wraps in the back of Stiles' shirt and he's hauled off the ground onto shaking legs to face the scrawny but deceptively strong addict who shoves the barrel of the gun against Stiles' temple before jerking him over to the door, staying behind him.

There are two sheriff's vehicles coming to a halt in the parking lot.

Along with a familiar navy Jaguar.

Oh shit.

Parrish gets out of one of the cop cars, crouching behind the open door, gun drawn. Stiles' dad climbs out of his SUV, bullhorn loose in his hand as he glares into the mini-mart.

His attention on the sleek sports car, it takes a minute for Stiles to absorb the soothing yet firm words his dad speaks into the bullhorn.

The barrel of the gun digs into his temple and he winces at both the momentary pain and the stutter of fear in his dad's voice.

The door of the Jaguar opens.

"You really don't want to do this, dude," Stiles pleads, suddenly more afraid for the druggie than for himself, which is just insane, but then so is his life.

"Shut up, shut up, shut up!"

In the pocket of his hoodie, Stiles' phone blares out 'I fought the law and the law won'.

"What's that?! Shut it up, shut it up, shut it up." More sweat pours off the guy and his stench makes Stiles wrinkle his nose, but it's not distracting enough that he doesn't see the figure move faster than human from the navy blue car.

This guy is dead and doesn't even know it.

Holding in a sigh, Stiles points at his dad. "It's my phone. That's my dad out there. He wants to talk to you."

"...Yeah, okay, answer it. I got demands, man."

Stiles pulls out his phone and the robber grabs it, babbling out a list of demands from a half dozen burritos--dude, they're in a mini-mart, the home of burritos--to a helicopter to take him to Peru.

Peru?

Before he can begin to process that--and wonder just what this guy is on--the gun disappears from his forehead, there's a roar and a loud cry of pain, and, as Stiles turns, blood splatters across him.

"Dammit! This is my favorite hoodie," he grouses as the robber whimpers on the floor, bleeding from claw marks to his stomach.

"Monsters!"

A punch to the head sends the idiot into unconsciousness, and the werewolf who rescued Stiles rises from his crouch, licking blood from his claws.

"Gross." 

He smirks at the face Stiles knows he's making, but he doesn't resist being hauled in for a heated kiss. He's kind of gotten used to the taste of blood on his mate's lips.

"Were you worried?"

A kiss is pressed to the spot where the gun bruised him. "Your fifteen minute candy run took nearly an hour."

Stiles nearly melts at the tenderness, then flinches as his dad barks from behind him.

"Hale, get your hands off my underage son!"

And then there's the cocking of a gun.

He so didn't want to come out like this.

But, since his life sucks, of course his dad finds out in the worst possible way that, 1) he's bi and, 2) he's mated to Peter Hale, reformed (sort of) psychopathic, serial killing werewolf.

Who doesn't let him go, just smiles benignly like there's nothing wrong at all.

The robber whimpers, "Monster," and continues to bleed all over the floor.

Stiles cuddles closer to his mate who pops a mini Reeses in his mouth.

At least he got his chocolate.

End


End file.
